Chicago awaits the return of Bell’s-brewed beer

Kalamazoo IPA by Bell's BreweryA Bell’s beer by any other name is probably still a Bell’s beer, right?

That’s why there’s excitement in Chicago that Bell’s Brewery in Kalamazoo, Mich., plans to start selling three brands of Kalamazoo beer in Illinois.

Rumors that this would happen have appeared on several Internet discussion boards (I first read it in the Beer Mapping Project forums) but a story in Crain’s makes it quite official.

The basics:

– Bell’s left Illinois last year after a dispute with National Wine & Spirits Inc., a distributor.

– Brewery founder Larry Bells says he is finalizing contracts with two distributors to bring beer branded as “Kalamazoo” to a few bars and restaurants. Each bottle will have a label reading: “Brewed especially for the people of the great state of Illinois.” And just to be clear, the labels state the beer is brewed at Bell’s Brewery, which used to be known at Kalamazoo Brewing.

– Bells says officials NWS have told him they will sue to stop the sale of Kalamazoo beers in Chicago.

“I think it will be a very interesting court case,” Bell told Crain’s.

My guess is that if Bell succeeds you’ll be able to walk into a bar, order “Two Hearted Ale” and get a classic American IPA without a bartender even asking “Did you mean Kalamazoo IPA?”

Can a brewery be big and human scale?

An interesting exchange of comments at the Portland Beer Blog regarding the Widmer-Redhook merger. Summarizing the two views:

One side: “The ruin of the American Beer revolution may be paved by over sizing, takeovers and greed.”

The other: (From Vasilios Gletsos of BJ’s Brewery) “I feel this is a short cut to thinking, and promotes a mythical narrative to the history and growth of the beer industry . . .” You really need to read it all.

The U.S. Brewing IndustryThe debate about if size matters (no, not like the e-mails you have sitting in your spam folder) ain’t going away. See Small, the New Big – and beer, a post from 20 months ago that quotes from a debate from 10 years before, one that had already been going on for 10 years.

Phil Markowski addressed the issue last week while talking about the decision by Southampton Bottling to strike an alliance with Pabst Brewing. As a result he will direct brewing of some of his brands at the Lion Brewery. “It’s less romantic, but the perception that you can’t make good beer on a large scale is wrong,” he said.

In my head I’m a journalist and I know he is right. Those New Belgium Brewing conditioning tanks pictured above hold 2,100 hectoliters (more than 55,000 gallons each), and New Belgium has grown to be bigger than the Lion. The primary fermentation tanks at Duvel Moortgat in Belgium hold 1,000 hectoliters each. I have Duvel in my beer fridge.

In my heart I’m enough of a beer romantic to make Journalist Stan nervous.

My interest in the role of place in a beer; the how and the why; the ingredients and process . . . is, on the one hand, basic curiosity &#151 and desire to find a story you won’t fall asleep to before I finish. On the other hand, these things represent emotional attachment to an idea of artisanship that many, maybe even me, relate to production size.

If you’re still with me give this, The artisanal movement, and 10 things that define it, a read. Lost Abbey brewmaster Tomme Arthur, whose batches are basically small and smaller, passed it along a while ago and I think it helps to frame this conversation.

Each item on the list might be worth a blog post, but for now I’m claiming the first: A preference for things that are human scale.

Scroll back to the picture above. It’s from 2000, the year New Belgium installed the 2,100 hecto tanks and had its first four 60 hecto wood vats (“foedres”) delivered. Shortly thereafter the brewery acquired six 130 hecto foedres. Now six more are on the way. The tanks mostly yield La Foile, but also a variety of other even-harder-to-find wild beers. As impressive as the brewery’s tank farm will be with the new additions, its wood capacity still won’t equal one of those big tanks on top.

I’d call La Foile production human scale.

The outdoor area where those four foedres sat a few days while they were “swelled” (filled with water) long ago was encompassed by one of many brewery expansions.

New Belgium Brewing has grown into a big place, and a busy place. It wouldn’t be accurate to have described it as a ghost brewery last June on the weekend Widespread Panic was playing at nearby Red Rocks, but it sure was less crowded. It happens every year; Panic comes to Red Rocks and everybody wants off.

Eric Salazar does his best to accommodate them. Salazar and his wife, Lauren, manage the NBB barrel program, but that’s only part of their jobs. She oversees quality control and he works in the brewhouse, including production and scheduling logistics. He didn’t even pretend to complain a few days after the concert when he talked about the juggling involved.

“Maybe there’s going to come a time we can’t do this,” he said, “but I hope not.”

Makes you think that big and human scale don’t have to be exclusive.

‘Best’ of the barrel-aged beers

Beer aging in barrels

Hey, I think this barrel-aged beer thing has some traction. Festivals earlier this month in Chicago and the Bay Area and judging that accompanied them give us a shopping list . . . of sorts. Looking for these beers, many of which are sold only on draft and all of which are packaged in small amounts, feels a little like chasing ghosts.

You’ll find the results of the 5th Annual Festival of Wood and Barrel-aged Beer here. And West Coast Barrel Aged Beer Festival here.

The Chicago festival attracted 80 beers from 29 different breweries, representing 10 states.

Rock Bottom Restaurant & Brewery in Chicago won BOS for the second straight year (and third time in five years) with Clare’s Thirsty Ale, an Imperial Stout aged nine months on raspberries in a bourbon barrel. Flossmoor Station Restaurant & Brewery won runner-up BOS again. This time with Wooden Hell, an English-style barley wine aged in a Woodford Reserve barrel.

New Belgium Brewing swept the wild ales category, with La Foile capturing the gold. La Foile also won gold in California.

Old Woody Barleywine from Schooner’s Brewery won BOS in California, followed by two beers from Lost Abbey. “It was so tough, I don’t think we’ll have judging next year, just a people’s choice,” Bistro owner Vic Kralj said told Bill Brand.

Firestone Walker Fine Ales won the People’s Award with Parabola Imperial Oatmeal Stout, one of the components in Firestone 10 released last year and in the soon-to-be-released Firestone 11.

Two other beers brewed for blending &#151 called Rufus and Bravo; isn’t it a little strange they come up with cool names for the parts and rather plain ones for the final beers? &#151 won medals in Chicago. I think those two will also be part of Firestone 11.

Details about that soon. I promise.

The economics of Widhook, and a book review

The U.S. Brewing IndustryPatrick Emerson has been kind enough to the work of Vic and Carol Tremblay in analyzing the merge of Widmer Brothers Brewing and Redhook Ale Brewery, giving me an excuse to mention that and also offer something of a review of their book, The U.S. Brewing Industry: Data and Economic Analysis .

Please start by reading his post at The Oregon Economics Blog as well as Jeff Alworth’s response (which is what got me to the Economics Blog). Emerson brings up quite valid concerns, particularly the ongoing competitive landscape.

I’m not going to repeat what he said about minimum efficient scale (MES), but expand on it a bit. From the end of Prohibition until the late 1950s the minimum production a brewery needed to reach scale efficiency and be competitive was 100,000 barrels per year. A-B was the largest brewery in the country, producing 8.4 million barrels per year, and Miller was 10th at 2.4 million. (Visit BeerHistory.com for more.) It wasn’t 1880, when we had more than 2,500 breweries, but regional breweries were a competitive force.

MES began to rise dramatically in the 1960s and was 4.5 million by 1973. Now it’s 23 millions barrels, which only Anheuser-Busch, Miller and Coors achieve. And the latter two plan to merge U.S. operations.

With that in mind, although it will still produce only a fraction of that Widhook (as those in the Northwest are already calling this “new” brewery) makes sense. Drawing on Tremblay and Tremblay, Emerson writes: “These are the cold, hard facts: economies of scale exist in beer brewing, they can be quite large and thus the economic incentive is to grow bigger and become more profitable and/or more competitive.”

So what about the fourteen-hundred-and-however-many other breweries in the country?

I’m reminded of what Eric Wallace of Left Hand Brewing said more than 10 years ago: “The large brewers are not tooled to do what we do. They’ll have to build less-than-efficient breweries to make beer like we do.”

And as beer drinkers we need to remember that. Less efficient means more expensive. I won’t climb on on that soap box today, because I promised something of a review of The U.S. Brewing Industry.

You don’t need the book if you are looking for the best Czech lagers, are wondering what kind of glass to pour a particular beer into, or want to read entertaining essays in the manner of Pete Brown.

You might enjoy the book if you’re deep enough into American beer history to wonder how and why the beer industry changed from 1950 to 2000. It fits quite nicely with Maureen Ogle’s Ambitious Brew: The Story of American Beer, although it’s not quite the breezy read. It’s an economics book.

You really should own the book if you want to sell beer in America. Robert Weinberg, who made part of his company’s extensive brewing data base available to the Tremblays, explains why in the foreword:

“The Professors Temblay have hit a home run. In a single volume they provide the theorist with more than adequate basic knowledge of the fundamental operating dynamics of the brewing industry. At the same time, they provide brewing industry executives with an excellent demonstration of how the tools of economic analysis can improve even the most pragmatic managers’ understanding of the environment in which they operate.”

Sometimes you can’t use the best ingredients

Green's gluten free beerThe easiest way to understand how malt and barley proved over several millennia that they are the best grains for brewing is to drink a gluten-free beer (no barley, wheat or rye).

That sounds harsh, but it’s hard to imagine choosing to drink a beer brewed for the gluten intolerant, most often celiacs, unless you have to. Maybe our brains must register the flavors of barley or wheat before they can think “hmmm . . . beer.”

But what if you grew up in sub-Saharan Africa, where sorghum and millet are more commonly used in brewing? Then you might feel the same way about what we consider traditional beers.

That’s why I really don’t understand seeing these beers “scored” against our standards at the beer rating sites. Part of the reason, of course, is that more smaller breweries are offering them, and therefore they get classified as “craft” and that means they are supposed to be judged to a special flavor profile.

Instead consider them an acquired taste. The slightly astringent, sometimes cidery, thumbprint of sorghum becomes part of their flavor profile. And despite how unappetizing that may sound brewers are finding different ways to produce an alternative for those who are gluten intolerant, want to drink alcoholic products and don’t want to drink wine.

(Just to be clear, being gluten intolerant is not like finding yourself a little stuffed up because you are mildly allergic to yeast. Celiac disease is a genetic disorder that causes stomach cramps and digestive problems and can lead to other serious health risks.)

Now a few examples:

– The easiest to find and the easiest to drink is Anheuser-Busch Redbridge, introduced not quite a year ago. It won a gold medal at the Great American Beer Festival in the new gluten-free category and deserved it. It knocks the rough edges off the sorghum profile better than any other beer, with some toasty sweet character.

– Merchant du Vin began importing three of the various gluten-free beers that Green’s in the UK has commissioned. All three of these are brewed at DeProef in Belgium, with Quest called a tripel and Endeavor a dubbel. Both have the bright esters you’d expect from the styles, a bit of perfume and certainly candy sweetness. (In the case of Quest, which is 8.5% abv, the alcohol is also pretty apparent.) Quest is spicier, while Endeavor has more fruit and caramel. Both exhibit what a beer judge friend of my calls “extract tang” that’s more noticeable at the start than after a few sips.

– Sprecher Brewing in Milwaukee has taken another approach with Shakparo Ale and Mbege Ale. They were first brewed for Milwaukee’s African World Festival and thus styled to be African. Mbege is made with bananas as well as sorghum and millet. I haven’t had it. Sprecher brought Shakparo, made with sorghum and millet to the GABF, where it won a bronze medal. It’s fruity, with some cider characteristics that seem more integrated than in other sorghum beers.

Depending on whose numbers you look at, there are between one and three million celiacs in the United States. Breweries aren’t making these beers as a public service, but it feels more like serving a community than exploiting one. According to Information Resources Inc., A-B sold about 21,000 cases in supermarkets in the first half of 2007, less than Michelob Ultra Lime Cactus and not even 5% of Miller Chill sales.

That’s why I would call these “beers of conviction.” A few months ago I began using that term and even created a category to file posts under. Perhaps I should further define what that means, but for now I know one when I see one. And these beers brewed for those who can’t enjoy barley or wheat qualify.